


Tomes Yet Unwritten

by lighthouse



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Librarian G'raha, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slice of Life, Tags May Change, Trans Character, semi-modern
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighthouse/pseuds/lighthouse
Summary: After a fight with a primal goes terribly wrong, Evi'a Llyrhai decides to take a break from his adventuring life to study and quietly re-center himself at the Great Gubal Library. He is soon distracted however by one of the resident librarians, who unknowingly demonstrates for him how multifaceted and beautiful a single soul can be.Notes: The first three chapters of this are reposts from where this AU began in my "Refractions" collection. The fourth chapter is new. Also, when I was writing the initial prompt chapters I was thinking of writing this G'raha as trans, and now that this is getting its own fic I've decided that I will.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	1. Distraction

“I’m sorry, but perhaps could I help you?” a dulcet voice suggested softly, and Evi’a looked up from the arcane listing that was the Great Gubal Library database to see a red headed, viridian-eyed miqo’te, his bangs swept over the right side of his face in a manner that suggested a hidden injury or scar.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he said, awkwardly stepping aside to grant the redhead a space in front of the flickering screen, blinking as he realized the man barely cleared his shoulder. “I don’t want to trouble you though, I can probably figure it out with a little time.”

“That’s okay, it’s my job,” he answered with a faint smile, not quite looking at Evi’a as he placed his hand on the mouse. “What is it you’re looking for?” 

“...Just the section on Amdapor, preferably as it relates to white magic,” he replied, privately surprised to find someone so young working in such a stuffy, ill-favored looking place. Compared to the scholarly garb of the other librarians, he appeared aught more than a student out of place in his jeans and loose-fitted green sweater. 

“Ah, studying conjury?” he mused, already flying through menus. “Not a beginner, I take it, or you wouldn’t have been allowed in here.”

“No, but sometimes I feel I might as well be. Perhaps I could start with intermediate topics?” he asked with a sigh. The librarian smiled, narrowing down the titles as though he knew them by heart. 

“It’ll come to you in time, with dedication and practice. Are you an adventurer, by chance? Archer?”

“Ah, yes,” the Keeper answered, caught off guard. “How’d you know?”

“Educated guess. Your hands are…” He straightened suddenly, ears half pinned with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...I-I wasn’t thinking,” he stammered, cutting a quick glance to Evi’a and then away. 

“My hands are what?” he asked, genuinely curious. The librarian rubbed at one arm in what looked like a subconscious distraction, fidgeted on the spot. 

“You have callouses in the right places for it,” he said in a low voice, blushing so hard his freckles blended in. “Sorry! I wasn’t staring or anything of the sort, I just…” He stopped, closed his eyes and took a breath. “Anyway, I daresay you’ll find these titles most helpful,” he said in a far more businesslike tone, indicating the screen with a vague wave of his hand. 

“Thank you,” Evi’a answered, slightly bewildered at the exchange. “Have you studied conjury? It sounded like you have some knowledge on the subject,” he ventured, trying to move the conversation along so that it might not end in such an awkward note. There was a silence as the librarian—Seeker, he realized as he was afforded another brief look at the man’s upturned face—clearly pondered whether or not to answer.

“I’m a rudimentary white mage at best,” he finally said, then gave a short bow. “If you have any trouble finding what you need, any of the staff will be happy to assist you.” With that, he turned and ducked down a side aisle, leaving Evi’a to stand and wonder where he’d misstepped. 

In any case, the man’s advice was sound, and the titles he suggested were quite helpful. Evi’a found himself rather hoping that they’d run into one another again so that he could offer his thanks, but over the next week of his studies the chance never seemed to crop up. He saw the librarian every day, sometimes helping other patrons, but more often than not quietly engaged in his own solitary tasks--sometimes broken by surprisingly agile leaps up or down to the next level. He was never scolded by the other staff, but it did seem quite reckless and out of place for such an establishment, which piqued the Keeper’s curiosity even more. 

After several days of this, he couldn’t take it anymore, and thought to ask if there was a time that the Seeker had a break, that they might speak for a moment. And so he flagged down another member of staff, a rather formidable Viera woman with bright silver hair and stern blue eyes, to ask if she knew when would be a good time. 

“And what exactly is that you wish with him, pray tell?” she’d asked so severely that his ears pinned and he felt he’d best raise his hands in placation. 

“I just want to thank him for the advice he gave me earlier this week, perhaps ask a few questions about white magic,” he said quickly, squirming a bit as she stared him down. He raised his eyebrows in puzzlement when she broke out into a smile.

“Oh, is that all? Hmm. Well, I’m afraid I’m not of the habit of giving out other staff’s personal information, so I suppose you’ll have to track him down yourself,” she shrugged, with a smile so impish that he almost swore she  _ wanted _ him to go out of his way to talk to the man. He thanked her and hastily made his retreat, wondering what exactly that had been about. 

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to approach the redhead, for reasons that he couldn’t quite pin. Several times Evi’a thought he saw the Seeker looking his way in his peripheral vision, but when he turned to check properly the librarian was always otherwise engaged. He did have, Evi’a noticed, a peculiar way of not quite looking anyone in the eyes, and while he was warm and friendly with the guests he also kept conversations short, seemingly keen to go about his own business.

And so Evi’a left him be, focused his mind on the studies he was here for, to take the temporary refuge sought from his travels as he struggled to realign himself, to come to terms with his failures and make an attempt at some personal development. Even so he was not used to sitting still for such long stretches of time, and the place was deadly quiet. Sometimes he found himself staring off past the words, and when he looked up from his tomes to recenter his mind, he would be distracted by the dust motes dancing in what dim sunlight broke through the grime on the narrowed windows. 

Well, at least he was getting some relaxation in, even if his studies weren’t going quite as diligently or effectively as he’d hoped. 

And so he was quite surprised, a few days later, when a commotion of whispers broke his train of thought. When he looked up from his tomes, there was the librarian, half hiding behind a shelf, and a brown haired lalafellian woman tugging at his arm and...encouraging him? It was hard to tell, but that was the impression he got. He noticed with interest that the Seeker seemed to have no qualms about looking her in the eyes, and his initial alarm died down to relief that the man did have at least one friend about the place. He watched with an amused smile as the lala changed tactics and wheeled to stand behind him, set her shoulder to his arse, and bodily shoved him out of his hiding spot. He stumbled and turned to glare at her, but she only made shooing motions in his direction. Evi’a chuffed to himself as the scholar’s hands curled at his chest in a typical miqo’te gesture of trepidation--and then swallowed his laughter when that anxious gaze turned to rest on him.

Oh. Oh...wait. Was that what was going on here? Surely not. He noticed his heart was beating faster, and he wondered at himself, at the blush rising in his own cheeks as the librarian made his bashful approach. He didn’t know quite what was happening, but he was pretty sure what he was feeling wasn’t vicarious embarrassment. 

“Er, hello,” the shorter miqo’te said as he stopped next to Evi’a’s table, tail swishing madly. “You...how fare your studies?” he asked, then furtively looked back to where the lala was now hiding behind the shelves. Just through the cracks between the tomes, the Keeper watched her bury her face in her hands and shake her head in exasperation. 

Oh gods, this was what it looked like after all. He swallowed, attempted to still the unruly lashing of his own tail as he took in how that lovely red hair shone in a stray beam of sunlight.

“Pretty good, you?” he asked, then winced. “I’m sorry, I mean, I know you work here, but I thought maybe…” He sighed, realizing there was probably no covering that nervous gaffe. “The tomes you suggested were an excellent starting point, thank you for that. I’d thought to catch you to give you my thanks, but you seemed quite ensconced in your own tasks, and I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“Oh!” the librarian said, ears perking with surprise. “I didn’t realize you’d wanted to...sorry, I can be kind of obtuse about that sort of thing,” he finished with a murmur, fidgeting with his fingers for a moment before he realized he was doing it. He forced his arms to his sides, then looked up shyly in his first real attempt to meet Evi’a’s eyes. “Actually, I...I’d hoped to talk with you again. We don’t get many adventurers, but I didn’t want to bother you. It’s unprofessional to harangue one’s patrons, after all.” 

“You’re not haranguing me, I’d welcome the company. If you’re not too busy, that is,” he said warmly, heart lifting along with the man’s smile. “I’m Evi’a Llyrhai, it’s good to meet you.”

“Oh Azeyma, I never gave my name, did I? I’m G’raha Tia...i-it’s good to meet you too.” 

“Would you like to sit down?” he asked, gathering up his nerve to indicate the chair to his right. 

The Seeker blinked, ears twitching as he gave a nervous little puff of air. Sweet Menphina, he was so obvious, and it was so endearing.

“Ah, of course, if...if it’s okay.” Evi’a swallowed, surreptitiously rubbed his heated palms over his knees as G’raha moved to sit. How long had it been since he’d done this, actively flirted with another person? Come to think, how long since he’d even had the peace of mind to be interested in another? After leaving his tribe he’d been so tired and wary about relationships that he hadn’t bothered to try...and that had been quite a long time ago. He wasn’t sure himself quite what he was doing, but something about the Seeker’s genuine air put him at ease, as though perhaps making a go at this wouldn’t end in some pit fire of a disaster.

“So, how long have you been working here?” he asked, figuring the job was as safe a place to start as any. 

“About...twelve years, I suppose?” he mused, hands clasped in his lap as he eyed Evi’a’s tomes. 

“Wow, that long? I’d thought perhaps you were here for a summer job, or perhaps a sabbatical,” the Keeper exclaimed. “Er, no offense. You just...I just thought you seemed a bit close to my age, rather young to have already taken up work like this.” 

“...I’m afraid this is going to be a lifelong profession, for me,” G’raha said quietly, studying his hands. Evi’a winced...this was already not going as well as he might have hoped for. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...if you don’t want to talk about this, it’s okay.” 

“No no, it’s fine. I’d just...I can’t help but be a little jealous of you, being an adventurer and all. Despite what it might appear at first glance this  _ is  _ a very fascinating job, but as you may imagine it does not lend to adventuring, or getting out much at all, for that matter,” the Seeker said, looking about the cavernous building with bittersweet fondness. Evi’a’s tail thumped at the chair legs as he pondered what might be best to answer, but nothing particularly brilliant or forthcoming came to mind. Well, just have to wing it and hope for the best, then. 

“I’m getting the feeling you must have inherited your position, then?” he ventured, and the Seeker nodded. 

“Yes, in a manner of speaking. My tribe…” He trailed off, looked to Evi’a for a moment before glancing back down to his hands. “As it happens, stewardship of the Crystal Tower passes down through my tribe, and it seems to have fallen to me, this generation.”

“The Crystal Tower?” Evi’a exclaimed, then hunched in on himself at the volume of his voice, at the flattening of G’raha’s ears. “Sorry, sorry,” he amended quickly, then went on in a quieter voice. “You mean, the ones who keep the Tower unsealed so it can power all of Eorzea, that’s...that’s your family?” 

“Yes. Or me, in this case,” he answered tonelessly, and Evi’a stared, heart aching at the dull, distant expression in the one visible green eye. If it were anyone else, he’d have thought they were lying, but the Seeker was so genuine, and his empathetic echo revealed not a scrap of dishonesty. He’d heard of this, that the Tower only opened for members of a specific miqo’te tribe that bore Allag royal blood, but he’d always thought of it as something of an urban legend. And if there was a family like that, wouldn’t they be highly secretive, and also probably quite rich? Come to think... 

“Does your tribe own this library?” he asked, unable to help himself, and G’raha canted his head to the side a bit. 

“Of a sort. It was built by the Sharlayans, as I’m sure you know, many centuries prior...but with a great deal of funding from our tribe. With everything running on aetherial power now and libraries falling out of popularity, this one’s been left to molder...but there is important knowledge that’s been sealed away here for hundreds of years that exists nowhere else, and it would be a crime to let it go to waste. That’s...that’s why I’m here on special permission, gradually transcribing the most important among these tomes to the Tower databases, that they might become public knowledge. Mostly medical research for now, though I do hope to branch out someday, once that’s finished.” 

“...That’s incredible,” Evi’a breathed, because he didn’t know what else to say, and it was true. “So you don’t have to stay at the Tower to keep it unsealed?”

“I go back four times a year to see to it. I don’t like...I prefer not to stay there,” he murmured, then suddenly pushed himself up to stand. “I think...I think I’d best go, there’s some chores that need seeing to.” Evi’a stared in dismay, heart sinking as he wondered how he might salvage the situation, cursing himself for a fool that he made such a wreck of things within less than five minutes. 

“You...you don’t have to go,” he ventured. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have asked, I didn’t mean to pry.” He sat back a bit in his chair when G’raha turned to look at him briefly, the one bright viridian eye shining, his expression raw with sadness and frustration. 

“This isn’t...it’s me,” he murmured, looking away. “It’s perfectly valid to be curious, and I should have kept it to myself if I didn’t want to speak of it...but somehow, this is always what comes out first, and I...pray forgive me, another time perhaps,” he said, then turned and practically fled for the safety of the neighboring aisle, leaving the Keeper to ponder what he’d ruined. 

  
  


Whereas previously he’d seen the Seeker from time to time about the library doing his tasks, over the next few days Evi’a did not see a single red hair about the place, and he didn’t dare ask any of the staff to know what had become of him. If he’d thought it was difficult to go about his studies before, it was nearly impossible now, his heart heavy as he replayed over and over again the questions he’d asked, the way he’d persisted even though G’raha was clearly not keen on the topic. Gods, if he had it to do over again he’d have talked about his own adventures--that was clearly what the librarian had been hoping to hear about, and he’d completely botched it.

On the third day since G’raha had fled his presence, Evi’a found himself listlessly wandering the aisle of Amdapor tomes, pulling one out to flip through it before half heartedly shoving it back into place when the words failed to captivate him. The library felt especially dark--when he’d left his inn that morning clouds had been brewing on the horizon, and the dimness did nothing for his gloomy mood. A part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just cut his losses and leave, maybe get some practice in and see what his studies thus far had taught him--what he  _ had _ gotten done wasn’t without merit, after all, and if him being here was going to upset G’raha, maybe best to just leave. 

He sighed and pulled out another tome, raising his eyebrows with mild interest as someone on the other side of the bookcase pulled out an adjacent tome at the same time--and his heart stopped when he found himself looking directly through at G’raha’s face as he tilted his head to peruse his selection.

His bangs swept to the side, just enough for Evi’a to see that his other eye was an aetherial crimson so bright and pure that it seemed to glow in the darkness. Sweet Menphina, it was the fabled mark of Allag...and the inadvertent breath the Keeper took upon seeing it had G’raha snapping his head up with a start, and then a stricken expression crumpled his face when he registered Evi’a there, what he had seen. 

“G’raha,” the Keeper breathed, holding up one hand in entreaty...but the book was unceremoniously shoved back into place, and then there came the pattering sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Evi’a groaned, let his head fall against the bookcase. 

“I’m afraid we can’t revoke your permissions early,” the canary-coated lalafellian staff behind the counter informed him primly. “You’re scheduled to be here for the next moon, and we ask that our patrons stand by their reservations. There’s quite a wait list to get in here, you must realize.”

“Then take my money and let someone else in!” Evi’a beseeched with frustration, inwardly cursing this bureaucratic red tape. There was nothing to stop them doing just that, of course, but he had a reputation to protect--adventuring was his livelihood, and he’d made something of a name for himself slaying primals--he certainly didn’t need a blot on his record from the respected library saying he didn’t honor his promises. Doubly so when that library was probably tied to the Crystal Tower. 

“Why do you want to leave so badly?” the woman asked, and he frowned at the personal question, then squinted as he examined her more closely. 

“You’re G’raha’s friend,” he exclaimed, suddenly realizing--he’d only seen her from afar, and the coat made her look rather different. 

“That I am,” she said with an unreadable expression. “And what does it matter to you?” 

“I...er...you must realize then, I’m making him quite uncomfortable. I have the distinct feeling he’s avoiding me, and to be honest, it’s pretty awkward for me to know that I’ve misstepped so badly that I’ve made him feel this way. If he doesn’t want me here, then-”

“Oh, he wants you here, isn’t it obvious?” she cut him off, then rested her elbows on the counter with a sigh. “That boy does himself in, truly. He gets like this when he tells people about the Tower, pulled this rubbish on me too back when we were at Val together. And you saw his eye, so you’re getting the extra silent treatment.” She heaved another sigh, leaned down to rub at her temples for a moment before regarding him with a sharp expression. “So, you must like him at least a little? Friendship is fine too, but I saw the way you blushed like a fool when he came to talk to you, so I’m thinking, it could be more?” 

“Uh…” he said eloquently, hunching in on himself a bit under her shrewd gaze. “I...I would like to see him again, if...if he’s amenable, but I have the feeling I said the wrong things.”

“Well, you could certainly have been more sensitive, but he’s right, it’s natural to be curious. He’s just such a hopeless ball of anxiety when it comes to the Tower, figures once people know that’s all they’ll see. And this is just a friend’s speculation on my part, but I believe he was  _ really _ hoping you’d see more than that. Would have been better if he could have just kept his mouth shut for a bit and held a different conversation, but he always feels like he’s lying by omission if he doesn’t get it out there right away, bless his heart.” 

“So...if I stay, you think...you think he’ll come around?” he asked, feeling a fool. For all he’d barely spoken to the man, he desperately wanted to see him again, and not just because he felt bad about how things had gone. He couldn’t get the stricken look in G’raha’s expressive eyes out of his mind, the speculation about the history behind that pain. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to soothe another person more in his entire life, wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted the gift of eye contact more from another. It was such a simple thing, but the thought of looking into the Seeker’s eyes for more than three seconds had his heart racing. 

She pursed her lips, rubbed her chin thoughtfully. 

“There’s an alcove on the third floor, with a sofa laid into the wall. You make sure you’re there tomorrow around three with a few tomes in hand. I’ll see to it that he gets there. After that, you’re on your own.” 


	2. An Arranged Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evi'a goes to the appointed place, and waits. And waits. And waits some more.

Evi’a shifted into the sofa for what felt the hundredth time, eyes wandering to the tarnished gold-filigree clock at the end of the hallway. It was thirty minutes past the time G’raha’s friend had promised he’d be there, and the wait was torture...especially since he’d shown up half a bell early and spent at least a bell before that pacing the corridors trying to pass the time, and also got very little sleep the night previous. 

What if he didn’t show? What if the librarian’s friend couldn’t convince him after all, and he sat all day on the sofa like...like a stood up date? Not that he’d imagined this was a date, obviously, but seeing as how he had plenty of time to ponder on what he was feeling, it was in part certainly the dread of rejection. He wondered at himself, why he felt so strongly, especially considering that he’d only really spoken to G’raha twice and neither time had gone especially well. 

Thinking on it, with his tribe he’d been carefully raised not to think on relationships much, his duty being to sire kits. And he’d done just that, had eight beautiful daughters, but he never could quite banish the idea that there ought to be more for him, that he was worthy of more than just shallow affection for the rest of his life. And he’d tried with their mothers, each and every one, but they were also tribal women, and not particularly interested in dealing with men outside the four times a year they were allowed into the settlement to make more kits. 

He loved his daughters, but he couldn’t take that life any more. And yet, in some cruel twist of fate, once he made it to the outside world, he found himself afraid to try again, afraid to be relegated aside by partners outside a tribal setting, couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt to be thrown away by a lover who actually was looking at him for something more but found him wanting. 

In an odd way, G’raha’s trepidation about being cared about just for his connection to the Tower made him feel a profound kinship with the man. Obviously the circumstances were different, but there was enough that was similar for him to easily imagine how the Seeker must feel, only ever the means to an end. 

And, if he really had to admit it to himself, on a perhaps more shallow level, the librarian was also beautiful, the rich crimson of his hair shining in the sunlight, his eyes bright as jewels and expressive besides, and what the Keeper would not give to run his hands over those freckled cheeks. And then there was that the man was already a white mage, the way he gracefully leapt from level to level as a tribal hunter might have done among the trees. Certainly there was a great deal more to him than appeared, and that was with all the Tower business aside.

Evi’a swallowed, ran a hand through his hair. 

He absolutely, without question had a crush on this man he’d barely spoken to, and having never experienced the like, he had no idea what to do. Well, except sit on the sofa and wait, which wasn’t a great option, but better than nothing.

And so he waited, and waited, and waited some more, his attempts to appear busy with his studies growing more and more lackluster as time ground on. 

But finally, at four twenty three on the dot, there came the sound of hesitant footsteps, and Evi’a couldn’t help but sit up and perk his ears, all pretenses at research abandoned. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile as G’raha tentatively emerged from the aisle to his right, wearing his usual jeans and a long forest green shirt that had the air of possibly being pajamas. Suddenly Evi’a wondered how long he’d been there before he decided to approach. 

“Hello,” the Seeker’s said softly with a little wave, ears half drooped. He couldn’t help but be concerned at how wan the redhead looked, even in this dim light, freckles standing out starkly against pale skin. 

“Hi there,” he answered back with a wave of his own. “It’s...it’s good to see you again,” he added, before there could be any awkward silence. G’raha’s ears gave a weak flicker; he attempted a smile, but it was so miserable that Evi’a’s heart nearly broke then and there. 

“Krile said you’d be here...forgive me for being so late. I...I was ill,” he said softly, arms rigid at his sides. Ah, so Krile must be the friend. The Keeper had thought this was supposed to appear a coincidental meeting, but apparently that was not the case. Well, better he didn’t know, he’d have felt a lot worse while he was waiting. 

“It’s okay, I was reading,” he replied, wondering if G’raha knew it for the white lie it was. “Are you alright, do you want to sit down?” He tensed as the Seeker’s face clouded, followed by the briefest crumpling of his expression before he smoothed it over with obvious effort. 

“Sure, that would be nice,” he said mechanically, and perched himself on the edge of the sofa a respectable distance away. Evi’a tapped his fingers against the cushions, schooling his own ears to their natural position as he flailed internally for what to do. Was he upset with the fib? With having his condition pointed out? He took a calming breath. 

“Do you...would you like to talk?” he finally asked, because that seemed more logical than grasping at straws. The Seeker opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it and fell to silence, clasping his hands tightly in his lap. Just as he was thinking to offer to just sit for a while, G’raha spoke up, so faintly that it was difficult to hear, even in the quiet of the library.

“I’m sorry for running off. It’s a bad habit. I know it reflects poorly on myself and the establishment.” 

“That’s okay,” Evi’a said gently. “I wasn’t offended, just...I’ve been wondering if I hurt you somehow, and...I’ve felt pretty awful about it, honestly.”

“It’s not okay,” G’raha countered with a terse shake of his head, mouth set in a thin line. “I’m astute enough to realize how I must have made you feel, and also not blind to the fact that I’m hurting myself, shying away from every overture of friendship that comes my way. I want to do better, but it’s so terribly difficult.” Evi’a took a moment to think about his reply, touched by the startling introspective bluntness of the admission and knowing it bore consideration. 

“What would make you comfortable, in a friendship?” he asked at length, and the Seeker turned wide eyes toward him before looking away, fingertips kneading into his knees. 

“Why would you wish to be friends with me? What is it that you see?” the Seeker returned instead, fixing him with a deadly serious glance for the few seconds he could hold before looking away. 

“I like you,” Evi’a said easily, because it was true. “I...I have an empathetic echo, and I have a good feeling about you...like you’re kind, and genuine, and care for others even if you don’t always know how to show it. You seem like you have a lot of stories to tell, and ...I’d like to hear them, if you should care to share sometimes.” It was cheating perhaps to rely on his echo for his answers, but he didn’t want to be anything less than genuine himself. The Seeker fidgeted beside him, a touch of crimson rising into his pale cheeks. 

“The echo...so you really are quite the adventurer,” he murmured. “I must say, it gladdens my heart that your innate abilities paint such a positive picture...but I do feel compelled to warn you, the mark the Tower has placed on me has its...detriments, and then there are other issues as well,” he said, pressing a hand subconsciously to his chest. “I fear you may come to find me most trying.” 

“I won’t say I don’t care about the Tower business, because that’s your heritage, and obviously it has a profound impact on your life. But I believe there’s a whole lot more to you than just that connection...and I’d like to get to know you, if you’ll let me,” Evi’a said, doing his best to choose his words carefully. G’raha offered him a bittersweet smile before looking to his hands.

“Sometimes I wonder, which parts are me and which parts are the Tower, what I might have been without its interference. But, here I go again, being difficult, and that sort of speculation has never helped.” 

“It’s alright to feel what you feel, G’raha,” he answered, having reminded himself of the same any number of times. “Why are you really here? Why’d you choose this over a life of luxury at the Tower, or any of the other places you might have gone?” He winced internally, wondering if that was going too far, but in his heart it felt like the right question to ask. To his surprise, the Seeker turned to offer his first real smile, faint though it was. 

“Hope,” he answered, his voice clear and resolute. “I’m not content to rest on my laurels at the Tower, idling away my life in luxury by virtue of being the one born with the eye. There’s a whole beautiful world out there, and though I may never see it for myself, I want to know that I’ve done something with my means to make Eorzea and beyond a better place. As you may have guessed, I have my own shortcomings that keep me from getting out much, and to that end I’ve been something of a scholar since boyhood by default. When I learned of this library, of all the good that’s been sealed away here--especially in the field of medicine--it just felt like my calling.” he explained, and Evi’a’s heart gave a little flutter to hear him say to much at once, to know that he was so  _ good _ , to see his posture finally relax by a few degrees.

“It’s a very noble endeavor you’re pursuing,” he said quietly, and the Seeker gave a chuff.

“Lovely words, at least, but saying and doing are two very different things, I’m afraid. I’ve transcribed a mountain of information this past decade or so, but there is yet a good deal of bureaucracy it has to pass through in the outside world before it can be rightly put to use. Still, if my work has saved a single life, eased a single person’s pain, offered any suffering soul out there hope, I shall be content in knowing I’ve done a good service.”

“You mean, you don’t know if any of your work has made it into common use?” he asked with shock, and G’raha blushed further, a flustered smile brightening his face.

“..Some of it has,” he mumbled, clearly pleased with himself. “I can’t bear to search for the news myself, but Krile sends me the articles.” 

“That’s amazing, G’raha. I should be very interested to know what breakthroughs are direct results of your transcriptions,” he said warmly, and the Seeker winced.

“Oh Azeyma, ask Krile, she’ll tell you. I prefer not to go on about that sort of thing, it’s embarrassing. But...it does give me comfort to know that the effort was mine, at least, helps me hold on to hope for myself as well, on a number of levels. Which I suppose, if I’m quite candid, is why I’m sitting here with you right now.” Evi’a’s heart gave a dizzying little tumble in his chest, and he had to ask,

“What is it that you hope for here, then?” he asked, indicating the space between the two of them. The answer frightened him, but he had to know. His heart skipped a beat as G’raha actually  _ looked _ at him for a long moment, then around the library with a pensive smile. 

“There’s...there’s an archery course I’ve set up behind the library...if it doesn’t interfere with your studies overmuch, would you...do you think you might come practice with me tomorrow?” he asked instead, looking anywhere but at Evi’a. 

The Keeper stared at him, stunned. Was this a date? Was he being asked out on a date, and not the other way around? Given his role in the tribe, no one had ever…

He was brought out of his scrambled thoughts by an anxious glance cut his direction, the nervous curl of a red tail. 

“Yes!” he answered quickly, cheeks hot. “Yes, I’d be happy to. More than.” 

“Right!” the Seeker said, bounding to his feet so quickly Evi’a did a double take. “Well, that’s settled then, I’ll come...I’ll send Krile to fetch you tomorrow, perhaps at ten in the morning?” he asked, ears perked high and arms stiff at his sides even as his tail lashed behind him. 

“Yes, ten is fine,” he said faintly, barely registering his own response through the haze of his shock.

“Great! See you then,” G’raha responded hastily, and as was his habit, fled down a side aisle and disappeared into the labyrinth of his domain. 


	3. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which G'raha laments a bit of research, and Krile is a good friend.

“Oh Krile, what have I done?” he asked with dismay, burying his face in his hands as he dropped to sit heavily on his four-poster bed. 

“I daresay you’ve asked someone you like to spend some time with you,” his longtime friend said blandly from where she was piled up in his armchair, legs swinging over the side. 

“Not just someone, he’s a famous primal slayer! And there I was musing to him about whether or not he’s an adventurer, Azeyma help me,” he moaned through his fingers. 

“I can’t believe you of all people are sat here equating a man to the sum of his fame,” she said sharply, and he brought his hands down just enough to squint at her. 

“I’m not famous,” he countered sulkily, and she raised an arch eyebrow.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about G’raha Tia, don’t give me your shite. If you want better than that from him, you’re going to have to give him the same consideration.” 

“Yes, but it  _ is _ different,” he insisted, standing up to pace along the distinct worn path in his faded green carpet. “He’s like to have no shortage of admirers...a man like that, he’s got much better options than...than this,” he said, indicating the whole of himself. “I’m going to make a fool of myself, presuming I haven’t already. Gods, I wish I’d never thought to do a search on him, that’s dishonest anyway.” 

“I’d say it’s healthy to see what you’re getting into, although if you were going to do that the obvious time would have been before you asked him out on a date,” she answered, and he winced, ears flattened.

“It’s...it’s not a date! It’s just...we’re just going to spend some time together doing something we both enjoy, that’s all,” he said anxiously. True, he’d half thought it furtively in the back of his mind, but to hear her put it directly to words was more than he could bear, made him blush to realize his own hubris. 

“Raha, he likes you,” she said gently, finally shifting to sit properly. “You should’ve seen how dejected he looked when he thought he’d hurt you, how his ears perked when I said I’d arrange a meeting. Also, he sat over a bell on that sofa in the dullest part of the library waiting for you. You might have come out of hiding sooner.” 

He had the grace to fidget guiltily before replying. 

“I didn’t know what to say, and I looked such a fright...I needed some time,” he muttered, then sat down again on his bed. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted in a small voice, staring distantly past where his hands were clasped in his lap. He didn’t have to look up to know that he was being carefully studied, and despite feeling guilty that he was taking up her time like this, it did lend a little warmth to his heart when she sat down next to him on the bed and pressed up against his side. 

“Raha, all relationships are scary, and they all start from that one little ember of mutual affection, which luckily the two of you seem to have. And yes, you’ve got problems, but frankly everyone has problems, myself included and him as well. What do you want to do with your life?” The tip of his tail tapped at the mattress uncomfortably at the sudden question.

“I...I want to make a difference in the world, I want my research to give people hope--”

“Yes, yes, you’re kind hearted to a fault, I know. I’m not talking about the world and other people, I’m talking about  _ you _ . What do you want to do? Do you want to live out your days in this library transcribing tomes?” she persisted. 

“Sometimes what I want doesn’t matter in the grand scheme, if I stand to do so much good for others.”

“Answer the damn question, Raha,” she said softly, giving him a gentle elbow in the side for emphasis. 

“I want...if I could justify it, if my condition were better, I should have liked to go on an adventure or two myself...but that’s not for me, and you know it,” he whispered, and swallowed when she reached out to squeeze his hand. 

“Come on, where’s that hope you have so much of for everyone else? Where’s the man who spent hours practicing archery in the evening after all his studies were done, the sentimental idiot who ran off and got a tattoo as soon as he was accepted into Val because he was so happy to belong somewhere? Don’t let the Tower take those dreams from you, don’t make me sit here and watch you do this to yourself.” 

His heart ached as he looked down into her shining eyes, and he bent to bunt at her forehead. 

“You are playing very dirty,” he muttered fondly, and she grinned through her tears.

“Is it working?” she asked, and he gave a grumble of a chuff. 

“Yes,” he admitted in a low voice, at least temporarily resigned to his fate. “I’ll do my best tomorrow, but honestly, pigs are like to fly before this works out.” 

“Porxies fly,” she said brightly, and he snorted. 

“I suppose…” he allowed, ears perking just a touch. 

“You deserve nice things, Raha,” she said quietly. “Come on, say it.” 

He blushed, ears pinning again with embarrassment as he looked to her expectant face, and mumbled under his breath. 

“I didn’t hear that.”

“I deserve nice things!” he declared with a huff, tail lashing behind him as his cheeks burned, and she gave an approving nod.

“See, that’s more like it,” she said with satisfaction, and he was surprised to find his lips pulling up into the beginnings of a smile, his heart just a touch lighter. 

“Thanks, Krile,” he managed, a little wave of calm washing over his soul as she leaned against him once more.

“Anytime.”


	4. Archery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evi'a goes to meet G'raha for archery and quickly finds that his image of the shy librarian needs a bit of adjustment.

Evi’a’s ears perked at the sound of small footsteps approaching at three minutes past ten. Even so he hurriedly made to look to his books and scribble out a half-hearted, illegible note to at least appear busy, and not just gazing past the words before him in a fog of jittery nerves as he’d done for the past half bell. 

“Come to collect you,” Krile announced dryly, with no attempt whatsoever at quiet or subtlety. He started and dropped his pen, even though he knew she was coming, and it was a struggle not to cover his face with embarrassment when she raised her eyebrows and smiled with open amusement. 

“Nervous?” she asked, blessedly lowering her voice a bit, but still he squinted at her as he shakily reached for his bow. Gods, but he was full of caffeine. He wasn’t particularly keen on mornings, but he hadn’t been able to sleep anyway for imagining how the day might go...and those sleepless nights were beginning to pile up. He’d given up around seven in the morning and made the flight to the library, where he’d taken his usual seat and perhaps availed himself overmuch of the faded, sputtering instant coffee machine. 

“He really did send you then,” he said instead as he stood, refusing to rise to the bait. She gave a long suffering sigh, though a fond smile tugged at her lips.

“Yes, he’s not quite ready to do everything on his own, it seems. Even so, this is a real improvement for him, reaching out to someone by himself.” She gestured for him to follow, and he fell into step beside her as they made their way down threadbare burgundy carpeting to a more brightly lit section of the library he’d never chanced to visit. 

“Does he have other friends here?” Evi’a asked, daring the question as she seemed comfortable being open. “You two seem quite close.”

“Most of the staff here adore him, for one reason or another. As you might have noticed, he is very endearing, if infuriating,” she replied quietly as the gloomy walls gave way to a grand hallway with gilded, begrimed windows along the sides. 

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here,” he prodded as he followed, and she made a noise of frustration as she pondered her reply. 

“I could answer your question with a novel, frankly, but it’s better you piece this together for yourself. What I will say is that he…” She stopped, peered about as though to confirm they were truly alone. “He has trouble opening up to people, for a number of reasons, and if you give him a chance to fall on his sword he’s very likely to take it,” she said, brow furrowed as she directed her words toward the carpet rather than him. “Please, if you mean to be his friend, keep that in mind. And…” She frowned, shook her head. “Nevermind, I’m going to say too much, if I haven’t already.”

“I appreciate the heads up,” he said quietly. “It’s good to know he’s cared for around here. I was a little worried.” 

“He is,” she said simply, looking up to him at length with an enigmatic expression. “Empathetic echo?” she asked, and he found himself nodding with surprise before he could think. “Me too, of a sort. Anyway, just keep down the hall and head out the doors at the end, archery arena is down there,” she continued, then turned on her heel as though to deflect any further questions. 

“Thank you,” he said belatedly as he watched her go, and she waved without looking back.

Well, no time like the present. With as much dignity and patience as he could manage he made his way to the ornate doors at the end of the hallway, tail lashing as he reached out and pushed them open. He blinked against the late morning sun, then stared as his eyes adjusted.

He didn’t know what he’d expected, maybe just some targets stood up along archery lanes, or perhaps a couple of striking dummies. 

Instead, he found himself surrounded by a venerable forest in the fullness of its growth, a sunlit path leading from the library steps further onward into the sylvan realm. Casting his eyes about he did spy a few targets here and there in the trees, and well used, by the look of them. Tentatively he reached out a hand to touch a mighty trunk, and found the bark rough under his fingertips. Not an illusion, then. But none of this was visible from above when he’d flown in, so—

And then he jumped back with an undignified squeak as G’raha Tia dropped from the boughs above to land gracefully before him, his visible green eye twinkling with mischief. 

“Beautiful morning for practice, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked with the barest hint of a smirk.

“Seven hells,” Evi’a gasped in response. He’d been so distracted with the unexpected foliage that his usually keen senses had failed him. G’raha’s expression faltered, but he rallied quickly as he unslung his bow and bounced on the balls of his feet. 

“Do you ride?” the Seeker asked, and Evi’a blinked, still getting over his initial startlement.

“Ride?”

“Yes, chocobos, can you?” he asked insistently, ears flicking.

“Oh! Er, yes, comes with the adventuring territory,” he answered, wishing he had just a moment to gather himself, or to appreciate the welcome sight of G’raha in that tight fitting red vest ensemble just a bit more. He was also pleasantly surprised to see the bright tattoos on either exposed shoulder, as well as a pair of equally ornate markings scrolling up his neck. Had he covered them with a glamour before? And was that...leopard print on his boots?

“Of course!” the librarian exclaimed, cheeks coloring. “Let me just-” and he pulled a pair of whistles out of his pocket, blew on them in quick succession. 

“What are we going to-”

“You’ll see!” he answered, red tail lashing as an equally crimson chocobo broke through the trees, followed by a beautiful bird of pure night with white-rimmed feathers. 

“Sweet Menphina, is that an actual red chocobo?” he asked, taking an instinctive step back as the regal creature bounded to G’raha’s side and gave him a none-too-gentle bunt to the shoulder. 

“Indeed, I’ve had him since I was a boy. Worry not, he does not vex those who don’t vex him, isn’t that right, Phlegethon?” he cooed as he ruffled the bird’s feathers. Evi’a stumbled as the other chocobo bunted at him, and he turned to give the demanded attention, even as he cast a wary glance back to find G’raha’s mount eyeing him sternly. Well, he thought to himself nervously as he broke eye contact first, at least the Seeker had another valuable ally in his repertoire. 

“How about you then, what’s your name?” he asked his borrowed mount genially, as much out of kindness as for a distraction.

“That’s Salina. Don’t worry, she’s friendly, she’ll have you,” G’raha said as he swung up effortlessly onto Phlegethon’s back. 

No saddle then? Evi’a gave a low whistle of appreciation as he pulled himself up as well—he hadn’t ridden like this since his days with his tribe, and that had been a long time ago. 

“Has she other riders then?” Evi’a asked, trying to suss out how many others G’raha had invited back to this part of his labyrinth.

“Oh! Just...just a couple members of staff, from time to time. She gets lonely otherwise, and this piece of work here doesn’t take kindly to me riding other birds,” he said, patting his mount’s neck affectionately. Phlegethon gave a haughty kweh of confirmation. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the course I’ve set for today, and we can adjust if necessary.” Without waiting for a reply the Seeker urged his bird into motion, and they set off at such a gallop that Evi’a had to scramble to encourage Salina to follow. 

As they picked up pace along the path and the wind whipped through their hair, he was grateful to have a moment to collect himself from this whirlwind beginning to...whatever they were doing. As he looked to G’raha’s back he realized suddenly with some help from his echo that the Seeker was terribly anxious, and was frantically covering it by keeping them moving within his comfort zone lest he lose all his nerve. Well, it was good to know that he wasn’t the only one feeling nervous, then, though he hoped they would slow down at some point and actually _talk._

“Here we go,” G’raha called back, and Evi’a watched with increasing incredulity as the Seeker brought his bow to bear and loosed arrows at targets mounted in the trees as they bound past, and as far as he could see every single one found their mark or near enough, even with one eye covered. Not only that, the Seeker’s form was beautiful, the powerful muscles in his back and arms the clear tell of years spent honing his skills. Why was he keeping all that hidden under overlarge sweaters? And no wonder G’raha had recognized the callouses on his hands that first day in the library--he was like to have them worn into his own palms as well. In any case he was profoundly grateful that he had the excuse of being shown the course to explain his own inaction, so that he might just sit back on his mount and watch the scholar at work. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly hadn’t been this amazing display of skill.The Seeker was absolutely showing off, and Evi’a meant to enjoy every moment. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by something dark zipping across their path, watched as G’raha loosed an arrow and swore when he missed. The next three arrows found their marks in the moving targets, however, and then they burst free into a wooded clearing. 

“What were those?” he asked, looking back toward the forest as the Seeker brought his bird around. 

“Allagan nodes,” he panted, freckled skin handsomely flushed with exertion and a few strands of his neat braid coming loose. “Had them all about at the Tower gathering dust, figured might as well put them to use.” He hopped down as the nodes floated into the clearing as though by some unspoken call, and tsked as he pulled his arrows free. “Three hits, and none in the center. Still needs work.” 

“That was incredible,” Evi’a said with wonder, because it was and bore mentioning. “How long have you been doing this?”

“All my life, on and off. Well, since I left home at least, though I learned the basic skills there. I wasn’t allowed to…” he trailed off, and the Keeper frowned as the scholar’s ears sank and some of the fierceness of the ride draining from his expression. _Maybe better not to talk about home,_ Evi’a noted to himself, heart aching with the sudden change. 

“You were really amazing though, could more than be an adventurer with skill like that,” he reiterated, hoping the praise might help. 

“Oh! Well, I...I mean...I’ve practiced this course hundreds of times, anyone could do it with practice, and I’m sure the Tower is granting me some boon or another,” he rambled with a wobbly smile, fidgeting under the compliment. “But I’m glad you think so.”

“That level of dedication is admirable though, I hope you know that,” Evi’a insisted as G’raha pulled himself back up onto his bird. 

“What else am I going to do out here?” he mumbled with an abashed shrug, then winced and turned to look wide-eyed at Evi’a. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean...thank you. I should have just said thank you. I hope you liked it. The course, I mean! I arranged it myself, and I thought…” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, visibly forced himself to unclench his fingers from Phlegethon’s neck feathers. “Would you like to try?” he asked softly, finally daring to look to Evi’a for a moment with a hopeful smile. 

“Sure would,” he answered warmly, keeping to himself that he did not think he would fare nearly as well as G’raha had--clearly the Seeker was at his capacity for compliments, and needed a break between them. 

And he didn’t manage as skillfully as G’raha, though for a first time through he didn’t think he’d embarrassed himself either. 

“You’re an incredible shot,” the Seeker exclaimed as he swung down from his bird when they’d reached the clearing once more. “It took me longer than I’d care to admit to get down what you managed on a first try.” 

“Thank you...I’ve also been practicing pretty much my whole life,” he replied as he pulled his two arrows free of the nodes--though one had only just barely hit the outer ring of the target. G’raha watched pensively as he returned the arrows to his quiver.

“What’s it like? An adventurer’s life, I mean,” he asked quietly, making for the path back into the woods on foot, their chocobos moving to follow. 

“I...suppose it’s what you make of it. It’s different things to different people. Some adventurers just go out for a few months at a time and take odd jobs, while others do the whole package with sponsors and all,” he answered as he fell into step beside the librarian, hesitant of a sudden to outline his own travails. For whatever reason, G’raha was convinced that he couldn’t have that life, and without understanding the reasons, Evi’a was uncertain as to how much he should say. 

“In the interest of full disclosure, I...I did a search on your name last night. Since...since you said you were an adventurer. I didn’t read much but even so, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done,” the librarian murmured, looking away shamefully and rubbing at his arm. 

Ah. Well, the archery course made more sense if that were the case...if he’d seen any of the media footage, G’raha would know full well his accomplishments as a bard. He pondered how he felt about the Seeker’s admission, but found as watched the man’s pitifully drooped ears that he didn’t mind overmuch. If he were inclined to follow the adventuring news at all he would have known anyway, but for whatever reason hadn’t done so. Perhaps because he was convinced he would never be an adventurer himself. 

“I-if you’re disinclined to speak with me further, I would understand,” the Seeker said, so faintly he almost missed it. 

“What? No! Forgive me, I was just thinking,” he said hastily, kicking himself internally for not answering sooner. “It’s okay. Why’d you search my name though, if I may ask?” He instantly regretted the question as G’raha shrunk in on himself a bit, tail curling anxiously behind him. Gods, if he’d have just thought for two seconds he’d have understood the answer for himself. 

“I was nervous. I just wanted to see what...I’ve not…” he faltered, and started when Evi’a reached out to reassuringly touch the back of his hand. The Keeper winced and pulled away...maybe too soon for that.

“That’s alright,” he said gently instead. “I shouldn’t have asked, I might have guessed.” G’raha glanced at him with a pained smile, then looked away. 

The Keeper frowned and took a steadying breath. He was going to have to start trying to offer a little more if he was to make this work. “I’m nervous too,” he admitted. “I’ve mostly kept to myself since I left my tribe. Perhaps I’ve got a chain of accomplishments under my belt, but my group of true friends is small, and I’ve kept it that way for a long time. I’m...not the most adept at actually befriending new people, no matter what the articles might say of my personability.” 

G’raha dared to look to him once more with an unreadable expression, then without a word of warning sprang up to grasp at a low hanging branch. Evi’a watched with bemusement as he retrieved their arrows from the target, then let himself fall back to the ground with practiced grace. He wordlessly accepted his arrow, and they walked on together in slightly awkward, companionable silence. 

“Why’d you leave your tribe?” G’raha asked at length, and though Evi’a usually dodged that particular question with every fiber of his being, he knew he could not sidestep it this time. 

“I suppose the simple answer would be that I wanted my own life. I wasn’t going to ever have it there,” he said quietly, and the Seeker nodded. 

“Yes, I understand that feeling very well,” he answered distantly, and Evi’a shifted a bit, knew he needed to offer more than the rehearsed grey answer he passed to interviewers after a fight. 

“You know how there aren’t many male Keepers left? I was raised to believe that siring kits would be my most important duty in life. Mostly because they hoped I’d pass down my echo, which I did. But that life of shallow relationships and being a means to an end, it wasn’t...it wasn’t for me. I never felt like anyone...cared for me,” he amended at the last second, because to admit that he’d spent most of his life feeling unloved was too trying to confess. G’raha was probably clever enough to guess at what he meant, anyway. “My children, they loved me, but I was only allowed to see them four times a year, so...yeah. I left. I can still see them in the open periods, just, I’ve made my position clear, so I have to put up with everyone telling me how ungrateful I am when I go back. But it’s worth it, to see them.” 

“I’m sorry,” G’raha said softly, looking to him briefly with a stricken expression. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“It’s okay, it’s going to be a common question between miqo’te, after all, and this would have come up at some point anyway. Not often someone is allowed the tribe on good terms, especially a man.”

“Many’s the time I wished I might take a different path, though honestly it’s not the tribe’s fault that I’m...well. At the end of the day, there’s responsibilities I have to fulfill, and that’s going to be the case whether I accept my people or not. It’s a little different from you, but I can imagine how you feel.” 

“I thought you might,” Evi’a answered. “And now, if I can ask a question that I probably shouldn’t...do you always shoot with one eye covered like that?” 

“Ah, I...no,” G’raha admitted, cheeks coloring. “I’ll pull my hair back if...if no one’s around. I don’t like people staring. And even if they’re not, I imagine they are. One of my many shortcomings, I’m afraid.” 

“Gods, you were that fine a shot even so? I should love to see you make your usual attempt,” he exclaimed, reminding himself to temper his enthusiasm a bit as G’raha’s ears flicked and half pinned. “Don’t force yourself,” he added with some alarm as the Seeker’s hand haltingly began to rise to his face, as he carded elegant fingers through his long bangs. 

“I need to try to...I want to be more…,” he fumbled, then his expression turned stormy, and with considerably more force than necessary he swept his hair aside and turned both fierce eyes on the Keeper in a clear challenge. 

Evi’a forgot how to breathe, to be so suddenly granted the privilege of such a profound gesture, to see the emotion raw and ragged in the Seeker’s eyes, daring him to look away, tentative and afraid, conflicted and proud. 

And then something broke, and pain won out over everything else. G’raha looked away with a grimace, tore his hand away and let his hair fall back into place. 

“Don’t say anything,” he entreated in a low voice. 

“G’raha--” he began, but the Seeker cut him off with a terse shake of his head.

“Please. Just, leave it be for now. There were better ways I might have...I need to think on this more.” He stared for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“Okay. But I...okay. I’ll keep it to myself for now.” And how difficult it was, with his bard’s heart supplying him with a mounting list of frilly poetic rambling as to just how beautiful those eyes were, like the sunset over a forest, festive as Starlight, like the ribbons whirled by the dancers of Thavnair...He shook himself, feeling his own cheeks heat as his heart raced.

“Thank you,” the Seeker whispered. “Forgive me. I know I’m making things awkward, it’s a bad habit. I...I’m working on it.”

“It’s okay...listen, I like you, and from what I can see you’ve got a good friend in Krile, and some of your coworkers seem to be looking out for you too,” he said, because no matter how nervous he was perhaps it would do the Seeker well to hear it. “Maybe try to be a little kinder to yourself, a little more patient, if you can.” G’raha looked at him wide-eyed, then down to his hands with an abashed smile. 

“Krile says the same sort of thing,” he murmured, shifting on his feet. 

“Well, she’s not wrong. For what it’s worth, I’m honored, for all you’ve shown me this morning, and...and your company is most welcome,” he said, tail swishing behind him as he ran a hand through his hair and looked aside with a flustered smile of his own. When he summoned up the courage to check G’raha for his response, he found the Seeker studying him intently--though he quickly looked away once more, red ears flicking self-consciously. 

Gods, they were both so ridiculous, Evi’a almost laughed. How he wished he could reach out and take the man’s hand, but considering how the Seeker had flinched away from the brush of a touch, he kept his hands to himself. 

“Shall we go about retrieving our arrows, then?” he offered instead, and G’raha favored him with a small, genuine smile. 

“Mm,” he answered, and leapt for the branches once more. Evi’a raised his eyebrows with respect, wishing he could ask about the Seeker’s time with his tribe, seeing as how at some point he’d clearly lived a wilder life on the outskirts of the Tower’s reach, much as Evi’a himself had done. But home was a sore topic, and he so badly wanted to talk about something that G’raha felt comfortable with. He thought for a moment to join him in the boughs, but decided against it. Perhaps the Seeker needed space for a while, and his nimble traversing of the branches overhead afforded him both breathing room and a valuable chance to show off. And so he contented himself with following along below and catching arrows as they were dropped, their mounts ranging in and out of the trees behind them. 

“You’d asked of adventuring, what would you like to hear about?” he finally asked, electing to go for what G’raha had been nudging him for every time they’d met. 

“Anything!” the Seeker said from above, and Evi’a was relieved at the enthusiasm in his tone. “Let’s see...is there any primal you find especially troublesome?”

“Leviathan,” he answered instantly. “Any primal that forces me to fight on a platform from which I will inevitably fall, but Levi doubly so for being on the water. I get terribly seasick.” 

“Oh dear,” G’raha said, laughter in his voice as he dropped another arrow. “I thought you were from La Noscea?” 

“I am,” Evi’a replied with good humor, “but we lived out in the mountains, for the most part. I can assure you, when I moved to Limsa, my notions of becoming a sea faring bard were quashed in short order. I do love the beaches though, and swimming.” 

“Me too, though our beaches back home were rocky and chill for most of the year.”

“Coerthas?” he dared to ask. “Perhaps Dravania?”

“Ilsabard,” G’raha answered, his shadow briefly blocking out the sun overhead as he dropped another arrow. 

“Ilsabard! Seven hells, you swam in that?” he asked with astonishment. As far as he knew there were permanent ice floes in those waters, and most of the time the seas further north were tempestuous and inhospitable. 

“Well, when you have no other other options…” the Seeker said, the rueful shrug audible in his tone. “It was considered a rite of passage. A foolish one, in retrospect, but I gladly took part as a boy. Mostly though we were fishing from the shores. How about you, do you care for fishing?” 

Evi’a answered that he did, pleased and encouraged that the conversation was going so naturally. If G’raha needed to be in the trees for that to happen, so be it. They spoke about their favorite angling holes, odd specimens Evi’a had chanced to catch over his time as an adventurer, tales of sea monsters the Seeker had heard from his tribal elders as a boy. By the time the smaller miqo’te dropped down beside him again at the start of the path there was a heady combination of fire and mirth in his expression, and it did Evi’a well to see. 

“What’ll it be now?” he asked, taking back his final arrow and feeling as though he’d met G’raha for the first time all over again. It was still a challenge to reconcile his image of the soft spoken, shy librarian with this fae creature who shot like a professional and bounded through the canopy as though he lived there. 

He was finding he liked both G’rahas and the one they inexplicably made very much. 

“You want to run the course again?” he asked, tail flicking with unaccustomed bashfulness. “Or...or maybe go have an early lunch? Both? I have plenty of time, if you’ve nothing to attend to.” G’raha looked to him brightly with perked ears, hope shining clear in his expression before he cast his gaze down the path again. 

“Perhaps one more run...how about a contest, of sorts?” he asked with a sharp grin, obviously convinced he would win. “And then, I know a place where we could…” he trailed off, face clouding, and Evi’a frowned as he hissed and pressed a hand over his hidden right eye. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried with the Seeker’s pained expression. Come to think, he’d mentioned yesterday that he’d been ill and he’d appeared quite pale when they’d met, perhaps he’d overexerted himself….

“It’s nothing,” G’raha ground out, even as he dropped into a crouch and pressed both hands against his face. “Old complaint, it’s nothing, it’ll pass...” The Seeker’s voice broke on another pained hiss, and Evi’a dropped down to crouch himself, fumbling for the spells he used as a red mage just in case...though he had no idea what to do or if his aether would have any effect. Not to mention he’d proven all too recently that he was a healer of middling quality, if that. It didn’t help that both their chocobos were beginning to grow agitated, Phlegethon scratching up clouds of dust and giving low warks of concern. 

And then G’raha whimpered, and Evi’a sucked in a breath as blue crystal shot through with gold began to form at the fingertips of the Seeker’s right hand...and then rapidly swept downward to his elbow, moved up his shoulder…

“G’raha,” he breathed shakily, ears pinned and hands hovering helplessly over the Seeker’s hunched form as the affliction spread. The terror of failing another friend in the space of two moons seized at his thoughts, and his aether slipped away as his mind went blank. “What...what should I…” 

The librarian lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak, then gasped in horror as he looked to his hands. 

“Sweet Azeyma, not now,” he whispered, as the crystal scaled his neck, fissured up into his cheek. Abruptly he stood, leaving Evi’a to scramble backwards just in time to avoid their heads crashing together. “It’s just...it’s just my glamour f-failing, it’s nothing to be...I already had...I’m sorry, I need to…” And then he shook his head with a scowl, gathered up his aether, and teleported, leaving the trembling Keeper on his arse in the dirt to stare at the space the scholar had just occupied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here we go! This fic hit me out of nowhere, and it's going to be my yolo work. I'm not particularly going to plan this one out, just do what the muses tell me and roll with it. Chapters might be long or short depending, I'm just going to have a good time. Self indulgent hours here all the way. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> You can hmu on twitter @syrcusgardens if you like!


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